


J. Haydn - Hob I:96 - Symphony No. 96 in D major (The Miracle)

by ambitiousbutrubbish



Category: Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Orchestra, M/M, Music!AU, Orchestra!AU, everyone makes an appearance but this is very much the billy/teddy show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 03:06:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11245038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambitiousbutrubbish/pseuds/ambitiousbutrubbish
Summary: Really, Teddy's only orchestral goal is to stay well away from all that String DramaTM.Falling for their harpist literally at first sight was probably not conductive to the plan.





	J. Haydn - Hob I:96 - Symphony No. 96 in D major (The Miracle)

**Author's Note:**

> I call this titling “how pretentious can I be before everyone refuses to read my stuff?”
> 
> Umm I don’t actually know if most universities have a casual orchestra for non-music students that accepts members without auditions, but mine did. So that’s what I’m basing this on. Honestly I know very little about American schooling in general unless I’m basing it all on like Glee or something, so I’m actually cribbing a lot of this from the kind of stuff that happened at my uni.
> 
> Just a couple of terms to get started:
> 
> First chair: The leader of their particular section of the orchestra, that the other players take cues and directions from. Always a very good player who usually has been with the orchestra for a while, but not necessarily the best when talking pure playing ability - the section needs to trust their first chair to make the right calls and come in at the right time, so leadership and confidence is just as important. Seated closest to the audience, and usually gets the solos unless there is a specified guest soloist. Shares the first bench with the second chair.
> 
> Concertmaster: The first chair first violin. Has all the usual first chair responsibilities, but also leads the orchestra in tuning; so a good concertmaster needs to have a very good sense of pitch. Acts as the representative of the orchestra to the conductor. Position is particularly important in professional orchestras that have changing conductorship, as the concertmaster becomes the only permanent leadership in the orchestra and thus must interpret different conducting styles to recognisable cues for the rest of the players. 
> 
>  
> 
> I tried to keep the knowledge threshold when it comes to orchestra-related references fairly low, but if I misjudged it at all let me know and I’ll be happy to explain. After all, everyone knows jokes are funnier when you explain them.
> 
> A big thanks again to everyone who said they’d read my self-indulgent nonsense, including the lovely anons on tumblr that I didn’t reply to because I pretty much exclusively use the mobile app with notifications turned off so I didn’t see them until I accidentally clicked the activities tab and by then they were at least a week old and I was too embarrassed to say anything back. You’re all too kind. And that evil!Billy/Teddy sequel is definitely in the works!
> 
> Time-lining is all over the place sorry. I’m not super thrilled with some of the structuring here, so please forgive me.

**Teddy**

Teddy’s conception imploded an entire string orchestra. 

From a certain point of view, that could be something to brag about. Greg had certainly thought so. Kind of like a fun fact: did you know that I ended the professional relationships of around fifty people before I was even born? But it just makes Teddy feel so damn guilty, even now. Even though he didn’t do anything. Even though the collapse had been building for so long that it was on such a hair-trigger that the slightest bump could have set it off.

What had happened was this: the customary half-fake, mostly-friendly animosity that always exists between the violin and viola sections had turned entirely real, and not at all friendly. The violins had restarted the outdated practice of banishing violinists who couldn’t play a part to the violas as punishment. And the implication there, coupled with the resentment of the exiled violinists, had turned the atmosphere in the orchestra into one of outright hostility. 

Teddy’s mother had been the first chair second violinist, daughter of the concertmaster; his father, the first viola. They had bonded over how _stupid_ the fight between their sections was, and they had fallen in love. When his mother became pregnant, her father had walked and taken half the violins with him. And the violas had refused to be led by a traitor. 

They both died in a car accident when Teddy was only a few months old, and he was adopted by his mom. She had been the second chair second violin before the orchestra dissolved, and one of the only members to choose friendship over inter-section politics.

The only things Teddy has left of his parents are their instruments, and he had started learning them both young. But his primary school hadn’t had an orchestra, only a band. And Greg had wanted to play the trumpet. 

Teddy had wanted to too, because he was always a little bit in love with Greg, even long before he knew exactly what the feeling was; only that he wanted whatever Greg wanted because it made Greg happy, and he was happy when Greg was happy. 

And what Greg _wanted_ was to be loud and important and to control the band. The trumpet let him be loud, and the fact that he was louder than everyone else also made him important. And having Teddy by his side let him have control. 

For most of the band members, it had been their first time playing an instrument. But Teddy was raised around music, and Greg used that to his advantage; whenever someone challenged him, he would have Teddy tell them why they were wrong in detail, preferably using terms that Teddy himself didn’t always entirely understand, but definitely sounded impressive. And when they were right, he would talk and talk until they thought they were on the other side of the argument. And Teddy went along with it, because he would have done anything for Greg’s approval. 

It wasn’t until well into high school that Teddy realised that Greg was using him; that he never approved of Teddy himself, just of how eager he was to make him happy. And suddenly Teddy was free to think about what he was doing, and how _cruel_ it was, how humiliating for kids just starting out at something, to have someone who knew more than them to come along and stomp all over their ideas. How many people had he permanently turned off playing an instrument? He hadn’t really considered it, because it was all wrapped up in Greg, and how much he liked him, and surely someone he liked wouldn’t be so _mean_. But he was, and it took Teddy years to realise it, years to get up the courage to say “no.” 

And everything changed in an instant. Suddenly the trumpet section was always mysteriously one chair short. His sheet music would disappear from his bag at the start of rehearsal, or off his stand whenever he turned away. The rest of the band treated him like he didn’t exist, and it didn’t take long for him to quit.

But Teddy loved music, and after two weeks of moping he picked up the tuba, found some lessons on youtube, and hasn’t looked back since.

********************

Teddy doesn’t pick his university for the music program. Considering he’s not planning on majoring in anything music-related it would be silly to, after all. But finding out that his school has an orchestra specifically for students who aren’t taking a music course, makes him feel like he was meant to come here. 

There are no other tuba players, which isn’t a surprise. What _is_ surprising is that there is a harpist. And he’s gorgeous. Teddy spots him across the orchestra as he sits down, and immediately almost drops his tuba on the ground when he completely misses his knee. Luckily the harpist is only half way through his elaborate tuning process, and doesn’t see Teddy fall half off his seat with his instrument’s momentum. 

The conductor gets up on the box she’s using as a stand and introduces first herself and then the concertmaster. Teddy recognises him as Nate, the guy who spotted him lugging his tuba case towards halls and told him about the orchestra. She then asks if anyone has any suggestions for the repertoire. There are a few mumbled opinions - largely movie themes and Tchaikovsky - before one of the trumpeters shouts for Ride of the Valkyries and the violin sections explode in refusal, shouting about not being accompaniment instruments. 

Teddy sits back and watches it all play out. He likes Ride of the Valkyries well enough. It has a more interesting tuba part than almost all of the other suggestions he’s heard. But truth be told, he doesn’t much care what they end up playing - he’s happy enough just to be in a musical environment again. 

He lets his gaze wander as he waits, and it’s drawn like a compass back to the harpist. He’s finished tuning now, and he’s not participating in the argument either. He does, however, appear to be speaking to himself. Or more accurately, singing; and Teddy isn’t a great lip reader, but he’s pretty sure that he can see the shape of “kill the wabbit.” And maybe he’s just projecting - maybe he’s grasping at straws and hoping some cute boy’s first thought when Wagner is mentioned is also of Looney Toons - but suddenly Teddy is sure that every choice he’s made up to this point has been the right one, because they led him right here.

 

 

**Billy**

After weeks of seeking out each other’s gaze over the heads of the rest of the orchestra every time someone made a mistake or they had a spare moment, Teddy and Billy had finally spoken after Billy literally ran into Teddy walking with his head bent over his phone - reading an email about a delayed lecture - as Billy was jogging after a bus. Billy missed his ride, and Teddy skipped his class to buy him a ridiculously overpriced donut and coffee as an apology.

“So why the harp?” Teddy asked, and Billy had screwed up his face.

“You probably think the harp is super lame–“ Billy started, but Teddy was quick to interrupt him. 

“No, no. Not at all. The harp is awesome. Always loved the harp. It’s like space. And angels and–” Teddy had realised abruptly that he was rambling, and he snapped his mouth closed. 

Billy had bitten his bottom lip. “It’s name is Wiccan.” He said, and smiled nervously.

“That is so cool.” Teddy replied, trying fairly unsuccessfully to rein in his enthusiasm. “You’re so cool. Why didn’t we start talking earlier?”

And then Billy had blushed, and Teddy has never been the same since.

********************

After Cassie gets hurt, Nate joins a different orchestra. Billy fumes about it all through lunch in the campus centre, crammed into chairs around a tiny table Teddy can barely get his legs under. When their friends are with them, they’re usually a large enough group to snag one of the longer tables closer to the food, but with only the two of them they are forced to squeeze and push their way right into the middle of the mess of tables and chairs. Teddy thinks it’s kind of nice, in it's own way. It gives him an excuse to press his legs up against Billy’s and make him blush.

But if Teddy thinks Billy’s cute when he blushes, the flush across his cheeks when he’s angry and passionate about something make a whole different kind of heat uncurl in Teddy’s stomach.

“I can’t believe him.” Billy hisses. “Leaving us high and dry with no concertmaster. And over Facebook! Like we’re some horror ex.”

“What do you know about awkward breakups?” Teddy jokes, trying to stop Billy from drawing attention to them from nearby tables. He can already feel a few gazes from behind him. Billy glares at him, but there’s definitely a hint of amusement in his eyes. Teddy shrugs. “Maybe Nate was poached?” 

Billy sighs fondly. “You’re too nice.” He says, and pauses for a moment to pick up his phone. “Over Facebook!” He scoffs, and waves his hand around a little to show the offending wall post on his phone screen. Teddy gets a brief glimpse of Nate’s profile picture - some weird robot he built in his garage - before Billy’s wildly gesturing hand collects his takeaway cup with his phone and spills coffee all down the front of his shirt. It’s warm at best, but Billy still swears and jumps to his feet like he has been burnt.  
Teddy just laughs, and Billy sends another glare his way. Teddy shrugs. “I’m not _that_ nice,” he says.

But he gives Billy his hoodie to wear, even though it’s snowing.

 

 

**Eli**

After Billy, Eli is Teddy’s closest friend in the orchestra. And not only by sheer virtue of them living in the same halls; although that certainly doesn’t hurt. 

Teddy’s mom had wanted to follow him to university and get the two of them a small apartment within walking distance of the school. But with her being in and out of hospital the way she is, it just hadn’t been feasible, and Teddy had been forced to get a room on campus. For so long it had just been him and his mom, and living without her is lonely. It isn’t until he happens to run into Eli in the elevator three weeks into the semester that things start to look up. Their schedules don’t match, so Teddy didn’t know they lived in the same building until he skips his lecture to complete an assignment due the next day, and for a change they leave for orchestra at the same time.

Eli had been planning on commuting to university, but a few weeks before the start of the year his grandfather was moved into a nursing home at the recommendation of his doctor, and his grandmother went with him. And Eli couldn’t pay rent on his own. He only managed to get a room because the previous occupant dropped out, and the one he has is right up on the top floor and at the end of the hall.

He quickly starts to spend far more time in Teddy’s room that he does his own, which is fine with Teddy because he hates living alone: it reminds him too much of the nights his mom was kept under observation and he was forced to leave her and go back to a silent apartment with only his worries as company. 

Eli is a good distraction, and a good guy. He likes video games almost as much as Teddy, and pretty soon he just leaves his consoles and games with Teddy instead of lugging them all back to his room at night. Billy lives over an hour’s bus ride away from campus and only drives in on orchestra rehearsal days, so unless he’s pulling an all-nighter trying to finish an assignment, he’s often asleep fairly early by Teddy’s standards. But Eli and Teddy both basically only need to roll out of bed ten or so minutes before their classes start to get to them on time. Which means when Teddy is too worried about his mom to relax, Eli can easily stay up with him until he’s finally exhausted enough to sleep. And Teddy is happy to repay the favour, whenever Eli speaks to his grandparents. 

It’s practically an ideal set-up, which of course means it all becomes terribly inconvenient the first time Billy gets permission to spend the night in Teddy’s room. They’ve spent nights together before - Billy’s parents very cool, but probably mostly because the walls in their house are surprisingly thin for how nice it is - but they’ve never been allowed to be properly _alone_ before. Unfortunately, Billy keeps his newfound freedom a surprise, and when he arrives unannounced at Teddy’s door, Eli is already inside, looking over his shoulder with a controller in his hand. 

Billy gives Teddy an odd look when he ushers him in without asking Eli to leave, but to his credit he rallies brilliantly and just rolls with the situation, taking a seat on the bed behind them. For all that he loves comic books and television, Billy has never really been one for video games, but he does enjoy watching and backseat playing and the three of them fall into easy conversation for a few hours until Billy nods off. Teddy sneaks a quick glance behind him when Billy’s helpful screen-cheating commentary abruptly ends, and the sight of his boyfriend asleep in his bed is almost enough to tell Eli to leave. But as soon he has the thought, it’s crashed by a wave of guilt.

Eli had called the home that afternoon. He’d had a pleasant conversation with his grandma and filled her in on his courses, but when he’d asked if he could speak with his grandpa, he’d heard him shout that he didn’t want to talk to strangers. His grandma had apologised, but there had been really nothing to say after that except for goodbye. And Eli come to Teddy’s room, thrown on the game on the top of the pile, and proceeded to murder Teddy’s characters by chainsaw and gun and one time by karate chopping them off a ledge. 

Once, Teddy had briefly considered taking Eli to the gym with him so he could physically work through all his anger. But Teddy likes to work out in quiet, and besides, inevitably one of them would sprain their wrist or something and they wouldn’t be able to play their instrument. 

Eli stays for another half hour before Billy shifts in his sleep and ends up kicking him in the back of the head. Teddy walks him to the door because his mom raised a nice boy. And then he turns and sees Billy again, and all self-congratulations of being nice slip right out of his brain. Billy moves again in his sleep and rucks up the bottom of his ratty t-shirt a bit and Teddy lets out a shuddery breath as he makes his way back to his bed. For the briefest moment he wonders if he should just let Billy rest and get a good night’s sleep himself, before he remembers that that’s a stupid idea, and probably certainly not what Billy had in mind when he came over here to surprise him. Instead he pokes him gently in the side, and then pokes again harder when he doesn’t wake. 

Billy’s eyes fly open, and he grins sleepily up at Teddy hovering over him. “Eli’s finally gone?” He asks, voice a little slurred with sleep. Teddy would defend Eli’s presence, but he doesn’t know how much Eli wants him talking about his situation. So he only nods in reply. “It’s a shame he stayed so long.” Billy continues. “I was looking forward to spending some time alone with you.” Billy’s smile widens with his words, and Teddy gets the sense that he’s going for lascivious, but being so close to sleep he looks far too soft to really pull it off. 

Teddy decides to cut him some slack, and go full-in himself. He climbs onto his bed and swings one leg up and over so he’s straddling Billy’s hips. “Don’t worry, babe.” He says, bending down so their faces are only centimetres apart. “You’re on campus now. We have all night.” It’s not a very sexy line, but the mood is just right enough that he doesn’t really matter, and Billy shivers when Teddy leans down the rest of the way and kisses him. 

 

 

 **Kate**

Eli and Nate had been an on-stage disaster waiting to happen. 

It had all gone wrong their very first rehearsal together: when Nate had gotten up on the conductors stand, called for a tuning note, and almost immediately said the one Eli provided was sharp. That he was right was besides the point. Eli - who had already been reaching up to adjust his reed - paused; lowered his hand slowly, looked directly into Nate’s face and continued to blow the sour note. When Nate had pointed out he was still wrong, Eli had taken a breath and removed the reed from his mouth long enough to say flatly “I’m the oboist. You’re all supposed to be tuning to me.” before resuming his note. And the standoff continued until their conductor stepped in and had Cassie provide an A on the piano instead. 

Their musical relationship never really improved. When they were all together on campus, Nate and Eli were as good a friends as any of them, but put their instruments in their hands and suddenly everything was a fight for leadership of the orchestra. Eventually Cassie began hitting the tuning A key before Nate even got the chance to call for the note; the fact that it was _Cassie_ the only thing stopping a similar animosity growing between her and the two of them, particularly Nate.

After Nate leaves them, Kate takes up his position. 

As she takes to the conductor’s stand and makes eye contact with Eli, signalling to begin tuning, everyone holds their breath. This time his note is flat, but Kate says nothing, only waits patiently for him to adjust his reed before calling on the rest of the woodwinds. 

But sitting at the back and waiting for his turn, Teddy gets plenty of opportunity to watch Kate, and she smirks when Eli finally hit the right note. And Teddy knows that they’ve found a much better fit.

********************

Kate is roped into the concertmaster role out of nowhere. She wasn’t part of the orchestra beforehand, and she doesn’t even attend the university. But their conductor knows her from way back; when she was just a kid taking out first place in every eisteddfod within an easy day’s driving distance. 

To say the second chair is not thrilled is an understatement. The rest of the first violins regularly fight amongst themselves to not have to sit in the first bench when there’s a space; Teddy’s not sure if it’s because they don’t want the pressure and attention, or because it would be a lot harder for them to sit at the back and chat and eat when they’re up front. Either way, none of them had wanted the concertmaster position except the second chair. And he had wanted it bad. But in a stunning - albeit unsurprising in Teddy’s opinion - display of a lack of faith in his abilities, he’s passed over entirely.

When they break for lunch, he asks loud enough that Teddy can hear him all the way on the other side of the orchestra: “haven’t I seen you busking on the electric violin before?” And the withering look Kate gives him in return betrays the fact that she’s from money even more than the truly beautiful violin resting up against her chest.

********************

Kate doesn’t really seem like the type to sacrifice tone quality for as abstract a concept as “coolness”, so Teddy writes the electric violin jab off as jealousy on the second chair’s behalf and forgets about it. 

But three days later, he and Billy are walking back to Billy’s parent’s house after dinner when Billy stops abruptly and jabs him in the side. “Isn’t that _Kate_?” He whispers in a voice edging on scandalised, and he points ahead with his jabbing finger to a figure with her back to them. 

That is undeniably Kate. Playing the electric violin. 

It’s purple.

Teddy steps back a little until he’s standing level with Billy and wraps his arm around his shoulders, pulling him in tight. Billy slips his arm around Teddy’s waist, and they stand in the middle of the walkway and watch. Eventually Kate must feel their gaze on her, because she finishes her piece and turns around. 

Billy and Teddy _beam_.

 

 

**Tommy**

Tommy is the only member of the orchestra who has never attended the university. Technically speaking, neither has Kate; but they had voted, and it was unanimously decided that she doesn’t count, seeing as the arts library is named after her father. So Tommy is allowed to keep his title. He wears it with both pride and gloating, particularly come the few days every couple of weeks when the lecturers - apparently unable to talk to each other - have all scheduled their assignments to be due at the same time.

When Teddy asks, Tommy says he started learning the drums in juvie. It’s probably even true, as far as anything Tommy says about his past is true. Billy has a theory that he just drummed on any flat surface so much that juvie gave him a drum kit and sent him home for someone else to deal with.

Whatever the truth, the drums certainly kept Tommy relatively out of trouble from thereon out.

Tommy and Billy have a very complicated relationship; the whole long-lost twin thing, exacerbated by the fact that the only reason they ever found out about each other is because Tommy was assigned Billy’s mom as a shrink after his stint in juvie. Teddy doesn’t have siblings, so he is never sure how much of their occasional animosity is some weird family joke, and how much is genuine. 

But their strange, strained history notwithstanding, Billy freely admits that Tommy is an amazing drummer. Teddy had once jokingly tried to bet him that they could just get rid off the other percussionists because Tommy is fast enough to cover them all, but Billy said he didn’t have enough money to risk losing. Tommy is blisteringly quick.

He’s also kind of a dick. But he’s family - in both the orchestra and the blood sense - which is why Billy invited him to come along to an orchestra rehearsal in the first place, and why he subsequently was asked to join them for lunch the next day.

Tommy blows them off about half the time, but he’s waiting at the table early the first time Kate says she’ll come along. He scowls at Billy when he makes to sit next to him, so Teddy sits down on Tommy’s other side to _really_ mess up his plans. He smiles in the most offensively bland way he can muster when Tommy turns his glare on him, but it turns into a real grin when he hears someone scrape back the chair on his other side, and he turns around to see Cassie. She’s clutching at her bag strap with her right hand, three fingers curled around the material, and the other two sticking out awkwardly because they don’t bend properly anymore

It isn’t the first time Teddy’s seen her since the accident, but it is the first time she’s joined them for lunch. If he had to guess, Teddy would say she probably doesn’t like being reminded of the orchestra she can’t play in anymore. Or maybe she’s just uncomfortable with the way that Billy can’t look at her.

Either way, she sits down next to Teddy with a smile, and moments later Kate flops down next to her in the last free seat at the end of the table.

They hit it off immediately, and with Tommy sulking on his other side and Billy with his back deliberately facing the lot of them so he can’t see Cassie, Teddy is forced to play games on his phone to keep himself entertained. He fires of a few texts to Billy, and they’re soon talking over message. Teddy can’t help but have a little giggle at the thought that he’s become the teenage cliché he never quite managed to be as a teenager, with no friends to text when he was in the same room as them. Cassie hears his laugh, and reaches over lightning quick to snatch Teddy’s phone out of his hands.

“No phones at the dinner table, son.” She says as if she isn’t the youngest one there. She looks down to see who Teddy’s texting and her smile fades a little. “Is Billy okay?” She asks, quietly. Teddy shrugs. “Because he’s acting like I died or something.”

“You know Billy.” Teddy says. “He blames himself.”

“That’s stupid.” Cassie replies, louder this time. Teddy glances over and sees the way Billy’s shoulders tense but he doesn’t turn around. “I chose to help, and it was just bad luck.” Then she grins, and her fingers fly over the screen of Teddy’s phone. She manages to press the send button before Teddy grabs it back, and he can’t stop the message being sent to Billy. He freezes, holds his breath as he stares down at his phone, and then very slowly looks over.

Billy is looking back at them, a nervous smile on his face, and he gives Cassie a shy wave.

 

 

**David**

The first time Teddy hears David play the opening to the 1812, he honestly gets a little misty eyed. He looks over at Billy to see how he’s reacting, but Billy is watching David with his own eyes narrowed. Teddy can only assume it has something to do with Tommy - David goes to the university, but he wasn’t a part of the orchestra until he tagged along with Tommy one day, and the first cellist practically gave up her seat to him in an attempt to lighten her own workload and have more time for studying in her last year.

They haven’t really been introduced yet, but Teddy knows all of this because the bassoons in front of him like to gossip, and Teddy has a lot of coinciding rests where he can overhear. So it’s a surprise when David makes a beeline for him at break and sits down in the empty trombonist’s chair beside him, his cello propped up against his side. “We haven’t properly met yet.” He says. “I’m David.” And he sticks his hand out. 

“Teddy.” Teddy says, shaking his hand enthusiastically. David doesn’t let go immediately and Teddy has to slide his hand out of his grip. And then he feels rude, because it’s been a surprisingly long time since he shook someone’s hand, and maybe you’re not supposed to separate right away. He decides to lead with a compliment to compensate. “You did a pretty incredible job with the 1812. Have you played it before?”

“I aim to please.” David says with a smile, and leans forward a little. “But yes. I have.”

“Oh, dude.” Teddy replies, throwing his hands up. “You’re not supposed to tell me that. Now I’m much less impressed.” David huffs a laugh, and Teddy grins. “Got anything else?”

David’s eyes flick down for a second to take in the picture on Teddy’s shirt, and he swings his cello around between his legs with a glint of amusement in his eyes. He only makes it through four or five notes of the Angel theme before Teddy starts to laugh.

“Good choice.” Teddy says when David stops after a few bars, and David inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Did you pick the cello just for that, or was there another reason?”

“Well, girls of a certain age are always impressed by anything to do with Buffy. Less so boys, but some have good taste.” Here David winks at him, and Teddy laughs again, thinking of the first time Billy had seen this particular shirt and how he has been trying to sneak it out of his room under his own clothes or in his backpack ever since. “But no. That’s not the whole reason.” Teddy makes a go-on gesture. “Mostly, I just wanted to be appreciated. And it’s a sad fact, but if you want to be properly appreciated in an orchestra, you have to play a string instrument. But I didn’t want the pressure of being a violinist, especially because I’ve always preferred to focus on my studies. And violas get no respect. So I picked the cello.”

“What about the double bass?”

“The what?” David asks, face completely straight. 

And the truth is, Teddy has spent a lot of time around string players. His mom still picks up her violin when she’s sad and scared and in need of something familiar and comforting, or when she simply has a spare moment. Occasionally people who played with his parents will drop by and feign and interest in his life and well-being, though they have never offered anything to help, even when Teddy and his mom were clearly struggling to pay medical bills and school fees; he rather gets the impression that they’re fighting some kind of proxy war for his soul and instrumental allegiance, even without the orchestra. Teddy can even rattle off some of the simpler violin and viola concertos himself if the mood strikes, although he would absolutely call himself a brass player at this point.

But he’s never understood string section jokes. They just seem too mean spirited. But he’s never met a string player that didn’t enjoy them. So he smiles at David in an effort to look like a good sport, and David grins back. 

There’s a brief, almost awkward silence between them, but Teddy is spared having to think of what to say next by the arrival of Billy. He plants his forearms on Teddy’s shoulders and rests his chin on the top of Teddy’s head. Teddy glances up to try and get a look at him, but from the angle he can mostly only see his chin and up his nose a little; and even that is weirdly charming because he is so far gone for Billy, it’s ridiculous. He feels his smile drift into one that’s kind of dopey, and he doesn't even care. 

But when his gaze flicks back down to look at David and introduce him to Billy, David’s grin is a lot more fixed than it was a moment ago.

 

 

**America**

Since the beginning, America has made him feel off kilter - although whether it’s because of something she’s done, or just because he has a _thing_ about trumpet players, Teddy still can’t be sure. Either way, he has relied heavily on Billy to run interference with her for him. Billy doesn’t know the whole Greg story because Teddy is still too ashamed to really talk about it, but he _does_ know Teddy, and he knows when he needs to step in because Teddy is uncomfortable.

By the time the first concert since she joined the orchestra rolls around, Teddy would be surprised if he has spoken more than a few words to America, even through she spends at least half of her lunches with him and his friends.

Billy dresses up for the concert. He’s still in jeans, but he’s also wearing a black dress shirt instead of his usual ratty ts, or one of Teddy’s hoodies that hide about 90% of his frame. Teddy is pretty thoroughly distracted by the way the tighter fitting material strains at Billy’s shoulders as he moves to play his instrument, and he quickly makes his way over to the other side of the orchestra as soon as the sound check is over. Billy stands up when Teddy arrives beside him, and the look on his face says he knows exactly what Teddy’s thinking about. 

It’s clearly a brand new shirt, if the way the collar on one side is pressed oddly tight against his neck. Teddy flicks it out so it sits correctly, and lingers probably a little too long for being in company. He lowers his hand slowly back to his side, and makes an awkward attempt at small talk in an effort to change his train of thought back to music. Billy’s responses are equally as flustered, and the conversation goes nowhere in the ten minutes they have free.

Their conductor calls for seats to be taken again and Teddy reluctantly makes his way back to the brass section. 

He hasn’t even made it passed the trumpets when he sees his chair is missing. It’s like his vision tunnels; everything but the glaring empty space where his seat should be is sort of blurred and unreal. His breath comes shallow and quick, and he can absentmindedly feel his hands start to shake, just a little, because he thought this was _done_ , he thought it was _over_ but he’s still being punished for his cowardice and everyone still wants him gone. Distantly he hears “Teddy? Are you alright?” come from behind him and he remembers this, this fake concern that Greg would offer to try and make him feel like he is overreacting, and he turns around slowly, carefully. But it’s not Greg. It’s America, and the look on her face isn’t gloating or smug satisfaction, but genuine worry. 

Teddy mutely shakes his head and gestures helplessly to his music stand. America looks passed him in confusion for a moment before the situation makes itself apparent. Then her face sets in a frown and she stalks off without a word towards the left wing. Teddy stares after her, trying to focus on anything but the empty space where his place should be.

America returns about thirty seconds later, her cheeks lightly flushed and a triumphant grin on her face. She’s carrying a chair in her hands, and she puts it down heavily in Teddy’s spot. She passes him on the way back to her own seat. “The stage manager said he didn’t have any left, but I convinced him to find one.” She says, and she looks slightly too happy with that announcement.

“Thank you.” Teddy replies, and his voice is probably a little too thick for the moment to be entirely comfortable, but America takes it in her stride.

“Not a problem.” She says, and punches him in the shoulder. It hurts a lot more than it has any real right to, but Teddy literally could not say a bad word about America right now if he tried. “I’ve got your back.” She finishes, before taking her seat.

And as Teddy sinks down into his own, all that’s running though his head is “yes. Yes she does.”

 

 

**Noh-Varr**

Noh-Varr had a bit of a trial, trying to join the orchestra. No one can agree on exactly what he’s majoring in - dance or vocal performance or theatre - but whatever it is, it involves music. He had argued that the viola is different enough from his course that it shouldn’t stop him from playing. And when he wants to, Noh-Varr can turn on the charm. 

Kate had asked him why he was wasting his time with the instrument if it wasn’t important enough to devote his degree to, and Noh-Varr had told her that the viola is always important. “It has a classic beauty, and a mellow sound. What is there not to love?” He asks, and he looks directly at her when he says it. And Kate turns bright red; something Teddy never saw her do when Eli or Tommy were trying on their own attempts at flirtation. 

For Teddy, it throws up all his red flags. And even though this orchestra isn’t anything like the one his parents belonged to, he does’t want anything to put at risk what they have here. 

With Eli so focused on his studies, Teddy’s been spending a lot of time at the Kaplan’s so he doesn’t have to be alone, and he goes back there with Billy after Noh-Varr’s first rehearsal. Billy’s parents aren’t home yet, so he leaves his instrument in the hallway so they know he’s here. The two youngest Kaplan’s have taken to calling the space made between Billy’s open bedroom door and the hallway wall “Teddy’s Tuba Triangle”. It’s not actually a triangle - even with Teddy’s tuba case acting as the third side - but when he mentions this to Billy, Billy tells him in no uncertain terms that “alliteration is important.” And who is Teddy to argue with his hosts. 

He falls down onto his back on Billy’s bed, his legs hanging over the side and feet still planted on the ground. Billy follows after, pressed up against his side and he tilts his head a little so it’s resting against his shoulder. They lay in silence for a few moments while Billy taps out the finale theme of the 1812 against Teddy’s thigh before eventually he asks “what’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid.” Teddy replies. “I’m just worried about Kate and Noh-Varr.” And Billy knows about his parents, but only the absolute basics of what happened. Because if Teddy had to fault Billy on anything, he’s perhaps a little _too_ understanding of when Teddy doesn’t want to talk about things, and he lets him bury his problems. But even with his limited information, Billy can still put two and two together.

“Hey.” He says, softly. “Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.” He turns his head so his chin sits on Teddy’s shoulder instead, and then shifts so he can press a kiss to his jaw. “And even if something does go wrong, you’ll always have me. _Always_. I’m not going anywhere.”

Teddy hasn’t had the chance to bring Billy home to his mom yet, because Billy’s family always goes away over the break and his mom doesn’t want to meet his boyfriend for the first time while she’s in hospital. 

But even so. Teddy knows he’s going to marry Billy one day.

 

 

**Loki**

Billy missing rehearsal is an unusual occurrence, usually prefaced with a couple of weeks of complaining about an upcoming assignment and how he should start it early for a change. But Teddy knows Billy doesn’t have an essay due tomorrow, so he’s not skipping to stay at home and write a few thousand words fuelled by chocolate, coffee and self-loathing. Besides, Billy missing a rehearsal without calling Teddy first is completely unheard of. The orchestra has had to move rooms to accommodate a study session, however, so Teddy assumes Billy has simply not left himself enough time to get across campus.

But when break rolls around and Billy still isn’t there, Teddy starts to worry. It’s not like Billy not to let him know if something has come up. They don’t exactly live in each other’s pockets, but even so, after coming-on two years of dating they still haven’t really moved on from that honeymoon stage. If Teddy was watching from the outside he’d probably find them sickening, but from where he’s standing it’s pretty damn great. So he grabs his phone and dials Billy’s number. 

Billy is notorious for not answering his phone; Teddy doesn’t think it’s been off silent since he bought it. So that the call is picked up after only one ring is another sign that something is wrong, and Billy must have been actively staring at the screen. 

“Hello? Teddy?” Billy’s voice comes down the line, and he sounds a little breathless. “Where are you? I went to the rehearsal rooms but you’re all not there so I thought they must have changed the room so I tried to check my email but the stupid system logged me out again and I can’t remember my password and I wanted to call you but I didn’t want to interrupt rehearsal and–“

“Billy.” Teddy says, quietly enough that he won’t attract attention from the people around him, but Billy keeps spiralling on the other end of the call, running on his sentences with more and more ‘ands’. So he tries again, sharper this time. “Billy!” Billy stops mid-sentence. “Billy, it’s okay. Don’t worry. You’re allowed to skip rehearsal. We’ll all understand. Maybe just go to my room and I’ll meet you there afterwards. You have your key?”

“Yeah.” Billy says, breathing out slowly. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” And then he inhales sharply as he remembers. “No! No I can’t. The surprise soloist is coming in today I can’t miss that I’ll be behind, I’ll–“

“Billy.” Teddy interrupts again. “It’s fine. I’ll send you some photos of your part and you can practice while you wait.” Billy sighs in relief again. 

“Besides.” Teddy continues, his own voice a little strained now, “Billy, he plays the _piccolo_.”  
“WHAT!?” Billy shouts down the line. Teddy was already holding his phone at arm’s length anticipating the reaction, but he can still hear Billy’s voice loud and clear. He had had the same when the new soloist had walked into rehearsal; albeit internally. 

America looks over from a few seats down, and she raises her voice to speak to him: “Is that Billy?” She asks. “Tell him I already hate the soloist.”

Teddy brings the phone back to his ear. “America says she already hates the soloist.” He repeats dutifully, and America nods her thanks. “Maybe you _should_ come to rehearsal. I think she’s going to fight him.” He says the last part in an exaggerated hiss, and America’s snort of laughter is echoed by Billy’s own. Teddy grins. If Billy is laughing, the danger has passed. 

“What’s his name?” Billy asks, his voice back to its usual pitch.

“ _Loki_.” Teddy says, still a little thrown by that fact; everything about this soloist choice seems just bizarre. 

“Like the Norse god?” Billy sounds far more impressed by the name than Teddy had been, but Billy has always been strangely obsessed with Norse mythology. Originally Teddy had thought there was maybe some historical connection or something, but Mrs. Kaplan told him that Billy just came home one day with a book about Thor and he’s never looked back. 

“Exactly.” Teddy replies. “Seems about as reputable too.” Billy laughs again, and from the front of the room the conductor calls for the end of break. “I gotta go.” Teddy says, and Billy hums in acknowledgement. “I’ll see you back at my room. Love you.” 

“Love you too.” Billy says, and hangs up. From behind Teddy, Tommy starts making gagging noises. America throws her pencil at his chest. 

 

 

**Cassie**

Cassie had been their pianist, before the accident. 

Billy, of course, blames himself for it, no matter how much everyone tells him it’s ridiculous to do so. Yes, he may have asked for Cassie’s help, but she had happily agreed to giving it. Teddy could just as easily say that it’s his fault - after all, he’s the one who usually helps Billy move his harp in and out of his car, and he had skipped rehearsal that day to visit his mom in hospital. Ultimately, however, it was sheer bad luck that had caused Cassie to drop the harp case trying to manoeuvre it through the door, and bad angles that broke two of her fingers. Billy had rushed her to the hospital, but the damage was done.

She takes her inability to play with more grace than Teddy thinks he would be capable of. But even after she starts joining them for lunch again, it still takes her over a year to have anything to do with the orchestra. She starts bringing her homework along to rehearsals, but each week it almost immediately it gets forgotten for listening to the music. Sometimes she sits with different sections and offers advice, but mostly she takes a seat in the empty space next to the double basses. Teddy has a feeling her positioning has very little to do with acoustics. 

Nate’s crush on Cassie had been legendary, and the inspiration for more than a few quiet jokes. But whether or not Cassie returned those feelings had been somewhat ambiguous. Even if she had, she had taken it as personally as any of them when Nate left, and as far as Teddy is aware, she hasn’t been in contact with him since.

The way she smiles when she talks to Jonas is far more easily interpreted. Teddy has never had much success himself in his romantic pursuits before Billy, and even that he kind of feels like he lucked into a little bit. But even so, he’d happily offer Cassie some advice; if not for the fact that Kate appears to have it well in hand. Teddy would never have figured her to be a romantic, but something about Cassie just seems to bring it out in her. Maybe it’s because Cassie is younger, but whatever it is it’s sweet - in its own slightly odd way - to see the pair of them with their heads bent together.

And then the first week of the new semester, Cassie gets up on the podium in front of the orchestra and announces that she’s going to learn to be a conductor. And that they are going to do a run-through of Pachabel’s Canon to get her eye in. It uses a limited number of players, but it’s a good choice, Teddy acknowledges - every string player knows it well enough that they can play it conductorless, with their eyes closed and probably while they’re asleep, so it does’t really ,atter if a novice conductor falters ocassionally. But he can also tell that it’s not going to a popular choice, even before the rumblings of dissent start. 

It never gets a chance to build into a proper protest. Kate spins around to glare the firsts into quiet, and the rest of the strings follow. It’s a testament to how much Kate likes Cassie. Teddy distinctly remembers her threatening to stab the bass clarinetist with her bow when he recommended her to a friend who wanted it played at their wedding. 

The piece goes smoothly, as could be reasonably expected; all the parts finish together, despite Cassie missing a few beats here and there. She beams with pride at the sound of the final chord, and Teddy can’t help but smile with her. It’s singularly gratifying to see that she won’t have to give up on music just because her circumstances changed. And then their conductor takes back her baton and leads them through a regular rehearsal.

Teddy catches up to Cassie heading to her car after the room has been packed away. “You’re going to be really great at conducting.” He says.

“Thanks!” Cassie grins in reply.

“Is that what you and Kate were whispering about?”

Cassie nods. “She’s been so encouraging.”

“I thought you were talking about Jonas.”

Cassie screws up her eyebrows in confusion for a moment, and then laughs loudly enough that a student two rows of cars down spins around to look at them in alarm. “Don’t you worry about _that_.” She says with a smirk. “I’ve got it all under control.”

 

 

 **Jonas**

Nate had been a fairly good concertmaster; somewhat high-strung as is generally par for the course for the position anyway, but otherwise glad to go along with well-reasoned suggestions. His one display of nepotism had been convincing their conductor to let his adopted younger brother join the orchestra in this last year of high school. As luck had had it, they had been in need of a double bassist anyway, and Jonas had been easily accepted.

Of course, the memory of Nate as concertmaster is now irrevocably tainted by the fact that he bailed on them all. Teddy can’t help but wonder how the whole saga must have affected their home life, considering Jonas decided to stay. And it can’t have been made better by Cassie and Jonas’ recent attempts at working their way up to dating. Teddy had worried about Kate and Noh-Varr’s relationship breaking the orchestra apart just like his parent’s had done with theirs, but the two of them had quickly and amicably settled down into a suspiciously flirtatious friendship once they broke it off. And Teddy is definitely pretty sure he overheard Kate tell Cassie that they had had sex after they stopped dating. So maybe Teddy has been looking for trouble in all the wrong places. 

He watches them across the booth at the karaoke bar, holding hands on top of the table, but at the same time looking anywhere but at each other. And even if everything does go to hell one day, Teddy wouldn’t even be mad about it because they’re too damn adorable. 

Not-Varr has a not-so-secret love of karaoke, and once or twice a month he manages to hype them all up to the idea that it would be good to go back and have another try. Noh-Varr has a nice voice, but he also insisted on singing songs way out of his vocal range because he pretty much exclusively likes girl groups. The rest of them range from good to competent singers, with three glaring exceptions. As well as sharing looks, Billy and Tommy are also equally tone-deaf vocalists, to the point where it is legitimately hilarious. Teddy has never been a confident singer, but with a few drinks in them he and Billy will readily get up on stage and belt out the cheesiest love song in the selection list, and Teddy will laugh so hard that by the end of the song he can’t get the words out. The real trick is in stopping them. Tommy, on the other hand, refuses to take the microphone and repeatedly insists karaoke is stupid, but Teddy occasionally hears him singing to himself under his breath.

At the other end of the spectrum, Jonas has an incredible voice - to the point where he has been banned from singing until everyone else is tipsy enough that they can’t be embarrassed by how much he’s upstaging them anymore. 

He’s got the microphone in his hand and swaying along to the opening of some song Teddy doesn’t know when David leans over to where Noh-Varr and Kate are practically sitting on each other and trying to look like they don’t realises, and says in a loud hiss “I wonder how someone with such good pitch stands to play the double bass.” 

They both huff out a laugh and Kate replies false-thoughtfully “maybe he has instrument-selective deafness?” And all three of them snigger. 

Teddy can hear them from where he sits with his arm strung out across the booth over Billy’s shoulders. Billy’s sitting at a slightly awkward angle, half his back pressed against Teddy’s side and he tilts his head back a little to look at him. “Doesn’t it warm your heart to see the strings getting along?”

Teddy smiles at him and kisses his forehead, just below his hair line. “What about the double bass?”

“The what?” Billy asks, a laugh obvious in his voice, and Teddy groans and lets his head fall forward slowly so it knocks together gently with Billy’s.

He can’t believe he fell in love with a string player.


End file.
